


The Pain of a Broken Bond

by WarlockWriter



Series: Bonding at Barnes and Noble [2]
Category: The Evil Gene (2015)
Genre: Asexual Character, M/M, Soulmates, Trans!character, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 12:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18660532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlockWriter/pseuds/WarlockWriter
Summary: Sequel to Therapy and Coffee.Griff has time to think about being rejected by his soulmate, Julian. Now he has to figure out his next steps. What does he want, and can he find a way to get it.Thanks toMasterpiece_of_turkey_clevernessfor the beta.Fills the Determined Widow square for the Non-Gabe Rich Bingo





	The Pain of a Broken Bond

Griff sat in his seat at Barnes and Noble. Stunned didn’t even begin to describe how he felt. He’d found his soul mate? And his soul mate didn’t want him? Was that even possible?

Apparently so. He watched Julian leave the cafe area. He wanted so badly to run after her...him. Right. Julian was trans. He needed to remember that. Or maybe not? Maybe it didn’t make any difference now.

He supposed he should move. Go somewhere? Griff stood up, and his legs almost buckled under him. Catching himself on the table, he tried again, and this time, his legs worked. Automatically dumping his barely touched coffee in the trash, he walked out of the store, finding himself at his car without remembering exactly how he’d gotten there.

Griff sat in his car. He should definitely call his therapist. That’s what he was supposed to do after the meeting. Considering how it had ended, it was even more the right thing to do. Instead, he pulled out his phone and looked up the address of the nearest ABC store. Briefly, he reflected on how sad it was that a former soldier didn’t already know the best place to buy booze. The stuff didn’t mix with his meds, but he was pretty sure that was the least of his worries right now.

Letting his phone guide him, he drove to the store, walked in, debated briefly between vodka and whiskey and finally grabbed a bottle of whiskey that had an “18” on it. Probably meant it was good stuff. Some girl years ago had told him that, in the right light, his eyes were the color of sunlight filtered through whiskey.

The more than a hundred dollar price tag on the bottle told him that it was definitely good stuff. Excellent. He’d get smashed in style.

Back at his car, he considered taking a slug right there. However, he’d been in law enforcement too long. What he did to himself was one thing. But if innocent citizens were affected? Nope. He would do the right thing and drive home first.

Griff probably should have been more concerned about driving back to his apartment without remembering having done so, but he was caring less and less. A pinprick sized black hole had opened in the center of his chest, and it hurt. Felt like his insides were being dragged into the hole. Something told him it was only going to get worse. Good thing he had the whiskey.

On his way into his apartment, his phone rang. His therapist. Yeah, no. He’d let it go to voicemail.

He walked to the kitchen, tossing his phone on the couch as he went by. Opening his cupboards, he realized how empty his life was. He had no tumblers and only one mug, for the infrequent times he made coffee. Never tea. Tea still reminded him of Dana. Sitting beside the mug were four plastic glasses. Sixteen ounces? Twelve? He couldn’t remember. He’d bought them at Target along with his meager supply of dishes.

He was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to drink whiskey out of glasses that large, but he got one down anyway, cracked open the bottle and poured amber liquid into the clear glass until it was more than three quarters full. Then he went back to his living room and collapsed onto the couch.

The black hole had approximately doubled in size.

He knocked back several large swallows of whiskey. It was smooth and went down well. He sipped and thought.

Griff had found his soulmate. The person who was meant just for him. To complete him. To be his other half. He’d beaten the odds. The considerable odds. He thought he remembered someone calculating the odds of finding your soulmate to be roughly 1 in 1.2 million. So considerably better than winning the lottery but still a long shot. Of course, if you believed books, TV and movies, the odds were more like 1 in 3 but Griff had believed the more scientific estimate. He’d never known anyone who’d found their soulmate, and he’d always assumed he’d go through his life without meeting his. Which was fine. He wasn’t big on relationships anyway, well, at least the sex part, and that was required for a romantic relationship, wasn’t it?

But his soulmate didn’t want him. His thoughts kept circling back to that. What was he supposed to do with that? He couldn’t remember reading anything about that. Oddly, nor did he remember seeing a movie or book about it. But surely someone had covered it, even if only fictionally?

He sat and drank. He didn’t want to think anymore, and the whiskey did blur his thoughts some. His phone rang several more times. Each time it was his therapist. He knew he was in “bad decision” territory, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Eventually, his rambling thoughts wandered to the sleeping pills in his bathroom cabinet. How many did he have? Griff thought he might be close to needing a refill. Probably didn’t have enough. But could he try anyway? Did he want to try anyway?

***

Griff woke up the next morning, reminded of why he didn’t normally get drunk. His mouth felt and tasted like something had died there. His stomach rolled uncomfortably, and his headache was at least the size of Minnesota. The black hole in his chest had grown to the size of a golf ball, and he was thinking it might be tennis ball sized by the end of the day. The pain was correspondingly greater.

But he was still alive to wake up feeling terrible. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, the three-quarter empty bottle of whiskey staring at him accusingly, he’d decided not to kill himself.

It wasn’t exactly that he wanted to live. However, just like he hadn’t driven drunk, he couldn’t kill himself because he was certain that would hurt Julian. Even though they hadn’t completed the soul bond, he’d feel it if Griff died. And he couldn’t do that to his soul mate, even if Julian didn’t want to be with Griff.

Skipping breakfast, he poured himself some more whiskey. He’d run out soon, but he was in no shape to drive to get more. He pulled out his iPad, and, with some difficulty—typing was tricky while still buzzed—managed to find a place that would deliver in about an hour. All right. He could stay numb. That was good.

However, while he was still semi-sober and had his iPad in hand, he did some research. There was little research on an incomplete soul bond, but he was able to find a few articles. Apparently, the pain would get close to excruciating. Wonderful. That meant it was going to get worse than it was now, and it was already bad enough that Griff was reconsidering his decision on the sleeping pills.

No. Think of Julian. It wasn’t fair to do that to him. Was it? He’d rejected Griff? No. That still didn’t make it right.

Apparently, however, if the bond weren’t completed within a few weeks, it would fade away. Upside? No more pain. Downside? It couldn’t be reactivated. Both parties would be unable to bond with each other. Ever. That sucked, but at least he only had to endure the pain for a few weeks. Good thing he could afford plenty of booze.

His phone rang again. He glanced at it, hoping for a moment that it would be Julian. Not that he knew his number. But no, it was his therapist again. He’d call her back later in the day. For now, he’d find something to watch on Netflix until the delivery service opened.

Griff found some post-apocalyptic show about a small town in Kansas. He liked the two deputy characters, although he wished they were in it more. He found them more interesting than the love triangle thing the writers seemed to like so much. Really? Could they have gotten any more cliched than “have to cheat on his wife because he found his soulmate?” It was painful, though, to see someone else with their soulmate while he was denied his.

He was halfway through the fifth episode and on the dregs of his bottle when someone knocked at his door. He stumbled to his feet and managed to get to the door without tripping over anything.

Long training made sure he checked the peephole instead of just opening the door. Oh. A sheriff’s deputy. Either he was being served or it was a welfare check.

He opened the door. “Morning, deputy.” He was oddly satisfied to manage to get the words out without slurring them too badly.

“Griff Krenshaw?” the deputy asked.

Griff nodded and had the inappropriate thought. Did the Jericho deputies make welfare calls after the bombs went off?

“Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”

“Your therapist asked us to come do a welfare check. Apparently you haven’t been returning her calls. Are you all right?”

Griff shook his head. “No. I’m not all right. My soulmate doesn’t want me. But I’ve decided to gut it through and not kill myself. Thank you for checking on me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. But it sounds like you should call your therapist and make an appointment.” The deputy’s eyes dropped pointedly to the glass in Griff’s hand, which still held almost an inch of amber fluid.

“I think you’re right.” It really was a good idea, especially if it kept her from embarrassing him with more deputies knocking on his door. “I’ll call her right now.” He waved vaguely in the direction of his couch and his phone.

“All right. You do that, sir.” The deputy looked significantly at the couch. It took Griff a moment to work out what he was indicating, but he forced his thoughts to work through the haze of alcohol, and he finally got it. “Right.”

Sighing, he picked up his phone and, after a couple of tries, finally managed to make the call.

She picked up immediately, and he felt bad. Surely she had a client now? “Griff. Are you okay?”

“Uh. Not really. Julian doesn’t want to ever see me again.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

They agreed the phone was the wrong place to have that conversation, and she made room to see him later that afternoon. Which was probably a good thing. It gave him time to nap and hopefully sober up a bit. Not that either of those would be easy with the yawning pain in his chest.

As soon as he hung up, the deputy nodded at him. “Very good, sir. And you’re not planning on driving, are you?”

Griff shook his head, although that was almost a mistake as the motion made the world swim alarmingly. “No, sir. I’ll call an Uber. I used to be FBI. I know what happens when people do stupid things that put civilians at risk. I’m not going to be that person.”

The deputy gave him a long look, but he finally nodded. “See that you don’t.”

And he turned to leave.

Griff wondered if he’d see his patrol car when he left for his appointment.

***

The nap helped a bit, but he was still unsteady when he left his apartment to climb into the Uber car. Griff wasn’t surprised to see a Fairfax County Sheriff car parked nearby. He stopped himself just before giving the car a wave.

His therapist actually gave him a hug when he walked into her office, which was a first.

“I’m so sorry, Griff,” she said. He clung to her for a moment before pulling away and dropping heavily onto his usual chair. He always avoided the couch.

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about it.”

He gave her the quick version, although, of course, she dug all the details out of him. He did tell her about considering overdosing on pills and his reason for not going through with it.

“When you didn’t answer your phone, I was concerned you had taken them.”

“It was close, but, like I said, I don’t want to cause Julian any more pain than he’s already going through.”

“So what do you intend to do next?”

He rubbed his chest, where, as expected, the golf ball had grown to tennis ball sized. “According to what I read, this will fade in a few weeks. I don’t know. Stay drunk in my apartment until then? Alcohol doesn’t really stop it, but it does numb the pain a bit.”

She pursed her lips at him. “I think I can offer something a bit better than that.”

“You can?”

“Yes. I did some research after we talked. There are some medications that might ease the pain better than whiskey. Apparently some migraine medicines work, at least a little bit.”

That sounded promising. “Can you get me a prescription?”

“I’ll talk to my partner.” She was a psychologist, not a psychiatrist and couldn’t prescribe. But her practice partner was a psychiatrist. Griff saw him less frequently, to make sure his meds were working.

“Good. Then I wait it out.”

She tilted her head at him. “But is that what you want, Griff?”

“Of course it’s not. But I’m not sure what I want matters much now.”

She shook her head. “Griff. What you want always matters. Doesn’t mean you can always have it, but it always matters.”

He shrugged. “Okay, it matters. But Julian made his feelings pretty plain.”

“And you’re going to just give up then?”

What did she want from him? He wasn’t giving up. Julian said he didn’t want this. Didn’t he have to respect that?

He said that to her.

“Respecting him is fine. Yes, you need to do that. But are you respecting his wishes or running away?”

Griff wanted to protest that of course he wasn’t running away. But he’d learned to trust his therapist, so he gave her question serious thought.

She helped him out a bit. “Don’t you think he’s in as much pain as you? You’re not the only one dealing with an incomplete soul bond.”

Okay. That was a fair point. Until the bond dissolved, Julian was his soul mate. Didn’t he owe him something?

“I guess he is,” was all he said.

“Do you guess? Or do you know?”

Oh, the hated therapist question. “Yeah. I know he is. I mean, he must be.”

“So what’s the right thing to do?”

Wasn’t that the toughest question?

“I don’t know. Call him I guess. But I only know his work contact information, and that doesn’t seem the right place for this. I suppose I could go to his work and try to see him.” The part of him that yearned for his mate leaped at the thought, but he ignored it.

“I think you’re right. Calling is safer. Maybe call his work and leave a message? Then he can call you back if he wants to talk?"

Griff nodded. “Okay. Fair point.”

“What outcome are you looking for from the meeting, assuming it happens?”

Touching him again. Completing the bond. To have his mate want him back. Those were the things he wanted, but he wasn’t sure any of them were feasible. So what could he live with?

Finally, he said, “A real reason.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He had to work it out while he was talking. “I think Julian was as surprised by what happened as I was. Maybe he wasn’t ready to have the conversation so he dodged it with a quick, surface answer. Maybe it wasn’t the real answer. And if I’m going to lose my soul mate over it…” The black hole in his chest grew a little larger at those words, and he felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. “If I’m going to lose him, then I think I deserve a real answer.”

His therapist nodded and gave him a small smile. “That makes sense. And how are you with him identifying as trans?”

Griff gave her an honestly puzzled look. “Why would that be a problem?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Why wouldn’t it? It would be for a lot of people.”

He shook his head. “Not for me. I mean, if that’s how he identifies, who am I to tell him otherwise?”

“What about sex?”

“What about it?”

She gave him a look he couldn’t read. “Well, first off, you don’t know how he’s oriented. Gay, straight or bi. And if he transitions, he won’t have breasts and may want bottom surgery.”

Griff was honestly confused. “But this isn’t about sex.” He shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t care about that.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you asexual, Griff?”

She had to explain it to him because he hadn’t heard the term before, but when she finished, he thought it did make sense. “I guess I am. I’ve never really been that interested in sex.”

“But you do want a romantic relationship?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yeah.” Then he had a thought. “I mean. If that’s possible. Without being interested in sex.” That could be problem, he supposed. “I guess I could go along with sex if it were required.”

She was shaking her head. “I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves here. So you want a real answer from him. I think you should let him know that being trans isn’t a problem for you, so you’re not going to get in the way of his decision there. The not being ready for a relationship is probably going to be the bigger issue.”

That seemed like a reasonable summary, and Griff nodded. “Yes. That all sounds right.”

“So what’s your next step?”

“Call him at work? I can’t imagine myself just showing up.”

“All right. Call him when you get home then?”

Griff liked having a plan. It might not work, but it was something to try. Something other than just sitting on his couch and staying drunk. The pain in his chest was still awful, but having something to do allowed him to ignore it a little bit. “Yes. I’ll do that.”

“Good.”’

He left her office with a plan and a week’s worth of samples of the medicine that would hopefully dull the pain, along with another appointment for later in the week and the promise that he wouldn’t ignore her calls again.

It was a lot more than he’d had that morning.

***

However, fate had apparently decreed that the plan would change immediately. Griff had called an Uber, and the car had just pulled up when his phone dinged with a text message. No one ever texted him, so he checked as soon as he got in the car.

_Griff. This is Julian. I wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing._

Griff read it several times, not able to believe what he was seeing. Julian had reached out to him?

Another ping.

_This is your cell number, right?_

Griff hastily texted back.

_Yes. This is my cell._

And then he found himself at a loss for what to say next. Did he ask how Julian was doing? Did he ask for another meeting? This hadn’t been part of the plan he’d made.

_Good. So, how are you doing?_

Right, Julian had asked that in the first text. How should he answer? The truth (terrible--please can I see you, touch you and complete the bond?) or a socially acceptable falsehood?

_Okay. I guess. Uh. My chest hurts a bit._

That seemed safe. And then he added.

 _How about you?_ Because it was probably weird not to ask.

_Same. I hadn’t expected that._

The Uber pulled up at Griff’s apartment, and he got out, remembering at the last minute to add a tip.

 _There’s supposed to be meds to help with it. My doctor gave me some._ He looked at the sample blister pack and sent another text with the name.

_Thanks_

Griff entered his apartment and sat on his couch, clutching his phone in his hand. He had contact. It was what he wanted. But now that he had it, he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

_Well, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Thanks for the tip about the meds._

Shit. That sounded like the end of the conversation. He thought about what to say, but nothing sounded right.

 _You’re welcome. So, stay in touch?_ That was safe, right?

_We’ll see._

Well, it wasn’t a “no,” so Griff decided to count it as a win.

He sent his therapist an email with the gist of the conversation. He thought she’d want to know.

***

Over the next few days, there were several text exchanges, always initiated by Julian. Griff desperately wanted to start a few himself, but he had no idea of the protocol for this, and he let Julian lead.

The exchanges started light but gradually got a bit deeper.

_I’m sorry this happened. But I’ve given it a lot of thought. I’m not looking for another relationship._

_Okay. I get that. But you know. The trans thing doesn’t bother me. I won’t get in the way of whatever decision you make._

_I appreciate that. But that’s only part of it. I really don’t think I’m ready after my husband._

How could he compete with a dead husband?

Of course they discussed it at his next therapy appointment.

“How do you feel about the exchanges?

“They’re better than nothing,” he finally said. “At least I have some contact. I can hope maybe he’ll decide to go beyond texting.”

“Have you asked?”

“Uh. No. Should I?”

Griff knew she was feeling more confident about how he was progressing when her response was “What do you think?” instead of giving him an answer.

He sighed. Of course he should. Hadn’t she said last time that his wants were valid?

I want to see you. Not to...do anything. I won’t touch. I promise. I just want a chance to talk this out.

I don’t think that’s a good idea.

He let it go that time. But the next time Julian checked in, he was firmer.

_Until the bond fades, you’re still my soul mate. Or my potential one. I think that gives me the right to ask to see you._

_The bond will fade soon. The meds are working, right? You’re not in too much pain?_

Shit! That wasn’t the answer he was looking for. But, _Yes. They are helping._

Which was true. He was sleeping badly, but he could sleep a little bit. And during the day, he could keep himself distracted. He’d finished _Jericho_ and found _Justified_ which was also good and had a lot more episodes. If he timed it right, it would keep him busy until the bond faded.

Nearly two weeks after he’d first touched Julian, he realized he hadn’t been to Barnes and Noble since it had happened. He missed it. But would it be painful to be that close to where Julian worked? Probably. But he did miss his coffee.

***

The next day, he drove to Barnes and Noble. His barista smiled when he walked up to the counter. “Hey, Griff,” he greeted as he grabbed a cup and started writing the usual order on it. “Thought you’d moved away or forgotten about us.”

“No,” Griff said, not sure what else to say. “Uh. Had some stuff to take care of.”

He paid for his coffee and went to his usual seat, which was perfectly positioned to let him see the people walking up to order. He liked to people watch, and his military and law enforcement instincts demanded he keep an eye on everyone around him.

So he was looking up when Julian walked past the row of tables to the counter.

Griff froze. It felt like every cell in his body was trying to teleport to his soul mate.

_He was right there!_

What should he do? He wanted to run over and pull Julian into a hug and never let go. But Julian didn’t want that, right?

Julian’s head whipped around, and Griff knew he’d been spotted. Now what?

Julian sighed, finished ordering and walked over. “Griff?”

“This is my first time coming here since...uh...it happened. Honest. I haven’t been stalking you.” Yeah, that was smooth.

The barista called Julian’s name, and he walked over to get his drink. Griff had to grip the table to stop himself from following.

Fortunately, Julian came back and sat down. “I didn’t think you’d been following me. I...uh...I thought I felt you nearby, and I took a chance that you were here.”

Griff tried not to let hope get out of hand. “You did? You...wanted to see me?”

Julian took a long sip of his frappuccino before answering. “Of course I wanted to. I feel the same pull that you do. But...fuck. I don’t know what to do.”

Griff gripped his cup. Don’t touch. Don’t touch. His eyes darted to Julian’s hands, which were gripping his cup just as tightly. Okay. He was affected too.

“We’re almost halfway to the fading,” Griff said. “I think the pain is starting to ease. That’s a sign we’re running out of time.”

“Running out of time for what?” Julian’s tone sounded irritated.

Griff sighed. It was this or nothing. “To complete it. Come on, Julian. We beat the odds. Do you know how long the odds are that we’d meet?”

“One in over a million.”

“Exactly. And if we wait until it fades, that’s it. It’s like we never found each other. You can’t tell me you want that. You can’t tell me your husband would want that. To have met your soulmate and walked away from him?”

Julian sipped more of his drink and wouldn’t meet Griff’s eyes.

Griff waited, having been in therapy long enough to know the power of silence.

Finally, Julian said, “I don’t know what he would want.”

“How long were you married?”

“Would have been thirty years in a just a few months.”

Wow. That was a long time. Julian’s reluctance made more sense. However, “Then I think you definitely know what he’d want. I can’t imagine being married that long without having a pretty good insight into each other.”

Julian still wouldn’t look up. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Griff refrained from asking the hated therapist question.

“He probably would want me to take it. But I don’t know if I can. I’d decided I didn’t want a relationship again.”

“Just think about it, okay? You don’t have to make a decision today. But...think about it and let me know before it’s too late?”

Julian nodded. “That’s fair. No promises, but I’ll give serious thought to...whether I can complete it.”

Griff sighed deeply, not bothering to hide his reaction. It wasn’t everything he wanted, but it was better than he’d expected after the last time they’d met.

***

The tentative text exchanges continued. The pain eased. Griff’s anxiety grew. He wanted to push, but he knew he’d just push Julian away if he did that.

His therapist, traitor that she was, agreed. “You’ve done what you could. It was well done, too, Griff. I think at this point you need to wait it out. And maybe pray if you do that.”

Griff had given up on God at Godfrey. But he kind of hoped maybe God hadn’t given up on him?

Finally, the pain got to the point where it was so bearable that Griff could go for several hours and not feel it. Whenever that happened, he panicked. By now, he wasn’t sure if he was really feeling it or or just desperately wanting to feel it.

His phone beeped.

_Okay. I give. I think it’s not too late._

Hope should have leaped in his chest at the message. But he was afraid it was too late. He hadn’t felt any pain all day. He rubbed at his chest, hoping to feel something. But there was nothing. It was gone. It was too late.

On the other hand, Julian had finally agreed, so he supposed he owed it to him to meet.

_Good. Barnes and Noble?_

The answer was immediate.

_I don’t think that’s the right place. Where do you live?_

Griff texted back his address.

_I’ll be there in half an hour, if that’s okay?_

He was pretty sure there was nothing “okay” about this, but he still texted back.

_That’s fine. I’m here._

_Okay. See you soon._

Griff waited and watched the last episode of _Justified_. He’d planned it just right. The show had carried him right until last hope of bonding his soulmate vanished.

The end credits were rolling as the knock sounded at the door. Griff turned off the TV and got up from the couch. Was there really any point to this?

A voice spoke in his head, sounding suspiciously like his therapist. _You liked him before you knew he was your soulmate. Before you even knew he was a he. Don’t give up now._

Nodding at the disembodied voice, he went to open the door.

It was the first time he’d seen Julian in casual clothes: jeans, a t-shirt for a band he’d never heard of--Louden Swain?--and a light black jacket, obviously cut for a woman’s figure but still giving the impression of being a guy’s jacket.

“Hey, Griff. Uh. Can I come in?”

He waited for a moment for the little jump inside him that indicated they still had a chance.

Nothing.

“Yeah, sure. Come on in.” He motioned to the living room, and his manners took over. “Want something to drink? I’ve got cokes, water and iced tea.”

“Water’s fine.”

Griff went to the kitchen, poured some water from the Brita pitcher in his fridge and grabbed an orange soda. He’d been carefully avoiding anything alcoholic since his bender that first day.

Walking back to the living room, he handed over the water. Their hands brushed. Nothing.

It was too late.

He saw Julian’s face as he realized it too.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I waited too long.”

Griff sat down on the one chair he’d bought, thinking that a couch looked lonely without at least one chair. “Yeah. I kind of thought we had.” The “we” came out before he thought about it. He guessed it was still his manners in play because he just couldn’t bring himself to say “you had.”

Julian lowered his head to look at the floor. “No, it was totally on me.” He punched the couch. “Shit. I took too fucking long. And now it’s too late. Fuck.”

Griff agreed with all of that. It was something he hadn’t even known he wanted until the opportunity arrived. But it had. And he’d wanted it. And now it was too late. But, ever the gentleman, he forced himself to say, “It is what it is.” He’d always hated that phrase, but now he understood it. Still hated it but understood it at a deep level.

Julian put down his glass. On the floor because Griff didn’t own a coffee table or an end table. “Well, I guess there’s no reason for me to stay. Since...you know.” He rose and started for the door.

The little voice in Griff’s head spoke up again. _Are you really going to let it end like this? You did like him. Remember that?_

The voice was right. There was only a one in million chance of finding his soul mate, and, yes, he’d found and lost him. But plenty of people had a decent relationship with each other without being soulmates.

“Wait!”

Julian turned, his hand on the door knob. “What?”

Griff motioned to the couch. “Come back a minute. You obviously made some decision or you wouldn’t have texted me. So sit down. Tell me what you were thinking.”

“But it’s too late. The connection has faded.”

Griff took a deep breath. “Okay. So we aren’t soulmates anymore. But I still liked you before I knew about that. And I’m assuming you must like something about me or you wouldn’t be here now. Plenty of people have relationships without being soulmates. So tell me what you were thinking.”

Julian gave a little shrug and sat back down. “All right. I...uh...thought about what you said. About what my husband would have wanted. I fought it for several days, but I finally realized you were right. He wouldn’t have wanted me to give up on my soulmate. Or a chance at happiness with someone else. He’d never want me to spend the rest of my life alone if there were someone else. And it’s not like it’d only been a week or so. Almost a year is...well...almost a year. I’m not getting any younger.” He put his head in his hands. “But oh fuck. I’ve screwed it up. I waited too long.”

Griff wasn’t sure what to say. He’d had so few relationships. Hadn’t really wanted any. But now? He’d certainly wanted it when the soulmate thing had been an option. What about now?

“Uh, there’s something you might need to know about me, Julian.”

Julian looked up, a couple of tears on his cheeks. “Yeah?”

“I...I’m...well. I’m asexual. I mean. I think I am. I didn’t even know it was a thing until a couple of weeks ago. My therapist figured it out. So. That’s why I’m not worried about you being trans or what you decide. This was never about sex for me. It was about connection.”

Julian’s eyebrows slowly raised. “You are? Asexual but not aromantic?”

Of course he’d know all the terms. “Yes.”

“Huh.” He was silent for a long time. Long enough that Griff started to worry he should have kept quiet. Finally, Julian said, “I think that actually would have been good to have known earlier. It might have made things easier. I’ve wondered if I wasn’t somewhere on the ace spectrum myself. I had a sexual relationship with my husband, but I always preferred getting myself off. So, yeah, the thought of adding sex into the mixture had held me back from saying yes to you.”

They both sat in silence for a long moment, joined in the regret of what could have been.

Griff spoke first. “Does that mean we want to give this thing a try anyway? Lost soul bond or not?”

Julian looked up. “Yes?”

Griff found himself smiling. It wasn’t what he’d hoped for, but maybe they could still make something work. He moved to the couch and opened his arms. Julian hesitated for a moment before scooting forward and putting his arms around Griff.

It felt good. Not soulmate good. But still good. Other than the one hug from his therapist, Griff hadn’t been hugged in years. He lay his head on Julian’s head and closed his eyes, just appreciating physical contact with another person.

He thought he could get used to this.

“This is good,” Julian murmured against his chest. “I didn’t realize how much I’d missed this.”

“Same,” Griff said.

The sat there for what felt like hours but probably wasn’t. Griff started to pull back about the time he thought it might be getting awkward. Not that he was feeling awkward about it himself. But he had this idea that hugs weren’t supposed to last forever.

However, just as he lifted his head and began opening his arms, he felt something. A stirring deep within him. A faint buzz.

Julian’s arms tightened. “Don’t move. Is that?”

The buzz intensified. It was still almost too faint to notice, but they were both so still, each holding their breath.

Griff held Julian as tightly as he could. Now the buzz was unmistakable. And getting stronger.

“Griff?” Julian’s voice was full of wonder.

“Yeah,” was all Griff could manage to get out past suddenly dry lips. He was afraid to move. Afraid it would stop.

But it didn’t stop. Suddenly, the buzz burst into glorious life within him. Griff felt warm, complete and like he’d never ever be alone again.

It was Christmas and Halloween and every holiday that had ever existed. He groaned aloud at the relief and intensity.

“Julian? Do you feel it too?”

Julian pulled back just far enough to look him in the eyes. “Yes.”

Griff couldn’t stop the grin that crossed his face. This was everything he’d wanted and even more. Julian was smiling back at him, his brown eyes filling with tears, but he knew these were tears of joy and relief.

They hadn’t been too late.

Griff pulled his soulmate close and held him tightly. The bond hummed between them, alive and vital. It was amazing.

Tears flowed down his cheeks, and he didn’t think he could speak right now. But it was okay.

He’d never be alone again. He’d beaten the odds, found his soulmate, and it hadn’t been too late.

As soon as he could find the words, he said, “Want to celebrate at Barnes and Noble?”

Julian started laughing, stood up and took his hand, pulling him off the couch. “I think we should. It’s strangely fitting.”

Griff smiled at his new soulmate, and they left his apartment.

Together.

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is the end of the series. Unless I come up with a sequel idea some day. Which definitely does happen.


End file.
